by Tigris Eden
“They here, Xee?” Beats asked.
“Yup, Draven couldn’t make it and sends his apologies. If this all works out, you all will have an invite to the base. For now, we meet here.”
“Sounds fishy,” Khalid snidely remarked. He was the most skeptical of the group.
“Call it what you want, Khalid. It is what it is.”
“Hey, you asked us for help, not the other way around.”
True. But only at Michael’s incessant urging.
Khalid was a major asshole. Arrogant and closed off, he was right up there with Dietrich. Xee adored him.
“I saw you come in with Death,” Beat interrupted, his voice low and awestruck. She didn’t know if the kid had a crush or what, but for some reason, he was starry-eyed.
“Yeah, I told you, that’s my man. He’s harmless, unless you get on his bad side.”
Gabe could break a man in half if he wanted. But because he was on eternal probation, he couldn’t kill anyone or he’d go on Isaiah-the-prick-warrior-Angel’s top ten most wanted list. Fucker.
“Awesome. Can I meet him?” Beats asked with genuine hero-worship in his voice.
“Calm down, Beats. Damn,” Jo chuckled.
Xee looked over at Jo, who was grinning ear to ear. She really was the sweetest person Xee had met in a long time. She was perfect. Thick thighs, big ass, lots of breasts, and probably a dead on target for someone like Dietrich. Xee wouldn’t let that happen, even though Jorunn was the perfect mix of woman.
When she’d first met Jo, Xee tried really hard not to stare at her very unique eyes. They were cat-like in appearance, with light green flecks that burst into a metallic grey. But they also changed color on any given day at any given time. A kaleidoscope of colors seemed to shine outward, tugging you in. The colors so clear and stunning that during the day she had to wear contacts. Tonight, Xee could see flecks of gold and amber as if her eyesight were adjusting to the club’s dark atmosphere. Her full lips and high cheekbones gave Jo an exotic look, especially wearing the flowing skirt and painter’s shirt that covered her from neck to wrists—she always covered as much skin as possible. She also had great fucking hair. Xee shook her head mentally.
If Xee weren’t irrevocably in love with her Angel, she would have totally wanted to care for the female that stood off to the side of her. Jorunn was a good girl in every way possible. Again, Xee thought absently, this beauty wasn’t for Dietrich. She had something else lined up for him. His birthday had been last week, and although he didn’t want to make a big deal out of it, she was. Xee turned to Beats.
“You ready, Freddy?”
“Ready.”
“All right, just remember, something sexy. Remind the dame to be aggressive and suggestive with her body.”
“No problem. I’ll cue the music in about five.” Beats saluted and made his way to the DJ’s booth.
“Khalid, go with Xee,” Jo ordered quietly.
“Yeah, sure.”
Khalid reluctantly followed her back to the booth. The twins looked at Xee, then Khalid, and finally Dietrich. Royce burst into laughter.
“What the fuck, Xee?” D yelled, looking at Khalid.
“What?”
“Pussy. My dick only eats pussy.”
Khalid growled.
“Man, I’m not here to get you off. I’m Phineas’s right hand. Pussy is front and center stage in a few minutes.”
Chapter 2
He shouldn’t have been concerned about Xee, but for a second, D had thought she was off her motherfucking rocker. The lights dimmed and the people on the dance floor all turned to face the stage.
“It’s show time!” The DJ yelled from his booth.
Great. He had to sit through a fucking show. Someone in the crowd shared his thoughts because they vocalized their displeasure by booing.
“Don’t be stank,” the DJ boomed, “or I’ll have you booted!” He cleared his throat and kept jaw jabbing. “Bare your soul. Bare your heart. Bare yourself. Equality for all!” He yelled.
Everyone in the club, save for the team, repeated the last line before the lights went dark. Nothing seemed to happen for long seconds, and Dietrich couldn’t explain why the hair on his arms stood on end, why his body tightened in anticipation. It wasn’t necessarily a bad feeling. But it wasn’t a good one either. To him, that should have been a dead giveaway. Something about whoever was up on the stage would screw him in a major way if he let them. Trust your gut. Go with your instincts. Damn straight. But whoever was on the other side of the curtain, was giving off heavy doses of pheromones. She was also compatible with him in all things sexual.
A light was cast on the stage, and a woman’s voice sang something about not soothing souls or easing pain. The voice warned that it would rip into a man’s heart and drain it until every last part of him was left barren. Empty. The music pulsed in D’s veins like an intimate stimulant. A body appeared within his view. A shadow of the perfect female specimen. Whatever she was wearing, was stuck to her body like a second skin. A leg extended out from behind a silk drape, taunting the audience. The woman attached to the leg hooked the fabric around her form in such a seductive manner his pants tightened. He could smell her from where he sat. Warm, aggressive female. The best kind. She was the type of woman that left her hot scent embedded into the sheets, but never under the skin. She was perfect, and would be totally down for one night of pleasure. One moment she was twined in the silk and moving sensually, and the next, she was center stage. He couldn’t see her face, just her plump, full lips.
Royce bumped him on the shoulder.
“Butterface. Hundred bucks, everything but her face is legit.”
Bells slapped her man, telling Royce silently to shut up.
“Yeah, I don’t think so,” D murmured.
His dick didn’t lead him astray. No way in hell she was a butterface. She was something else, probably a Sex Demon, and Dietrich couldn’t bring himself to care. He’d taken his fair share of Sex Demons and lived to tell the tale. The song kicked up a notch, and he sat glued to his chair. Eyes hypnotized, dick hard as steel as the woman on stage gyrated her hips and swayed her body to the music. She danced in a way that had every male dying to get his hands on her. Too late fools, she’s mine. But for the night only. He never doubled-dipped his dick. It would be bad for business. Females got clingy if you entertained them more than once. He’d never been one to promote repeat performances, and he wasn’t about to start now. Tonight, he was only taking one woman home. The female on the stage, who was making her way over to their table. Dietrich smirked. She’d just won the Dietrich’s-one-night-stand-mega-millions. That’s how many orgasms he was giving her tonight before the sun came up over the horizon in the morning.
~ ~ ~
Jo made her way over to the table, to retrieve the team members. Her father was finally ready to see them. She saw Xee and the others in the V.I.P section, and she almost faltered. Dietrich was with them. Would he recognize her from the shop? Probably not, Jo. Head out of the clouds. He never seemed to notice her, but he came to her shop at least twice a week. He’d buy coffee, or order smothered pork chops, white rice, and collard greens with hot sauce. But, he never looked her in the eyes. Ever. It’s not like you made yourself known either. True.
Shit! Cassandra was making her way over to the table and she had her sights set on Dietrich. She’s more his type than you are. Jo wasn’t anyone’s type. Too afraid to show skin because of the markings on her body, she stayed covered up, and her eyes—freaky to others—put people on edge. It was the reason she usually wore contacts. Well, you didn’t wear them tonight. True. But this was BARE, everyone and anyone would have some sort of oddity showing, whether it was real or fake.
“Xee,” Jo spoke quietly as she cast her eyes to the ground. She was trying to ignore the pain in her chest at the sight of Dietrich and Cassandra. The sex kitten had all but fallen into his lap, and he seemed all too happy to entertain. That was typical; they were predators with rapacious appetites.
“And you are?” the pregnant female asked.
Jo took off her hat and slowly lifted her eyes. A small smile tugged at her lips. She knew who Belinda was. She was the Matria of House Ignis. Jorunn had spotted Belinda the moment the Matria had walked through the door.
“Jorunn McLellan. But everyone calls me Jo.”
Belinda’s smile was wide when she replied, “your eyes.”
This was one of the reasons she’d wanted to keep her hat low over her eyebrows. It shadowed her face. But Belinda was royalty. Jo’s father had taught her manners. She wasn’t going to have their first encounter leave a bad first impression.
“Sorry. I know it’s a bit startling at first.” Jo tugged her hat back on and lowered the brim.
“No, they’re beautiful,” Belinda expressed.
Well, that was a first. She’d heard “different” or “weird,” but never “beautiful.” That was new.
“Thank you, Matria.” She bowed. Was that the right thing to do? Should she have curtsied? Damn, what was the proper protocol?
“You have us at a disadvantage. You know us, but we know shit about you and the club kids,” the silver-eyed twin declared. He was going to be a problem. She could see it now. But no matter. Kill them with kindness.
“Well, then, let’s get better acquainted. My father is in his office waiting for you all. If you would follow me.” Jo looked to her brother Khalid and lifted her chin so he would follow. Khalid stood first. Beats was over by the door to her father’s office. As the rest of the table stood, Dietrich walked past with Cassandra on his arm. He didn’t even give Jo a once over. Stop mooning over him. She followed closely behind them and could hear Dietrich talking to Cassandra.
“One night. You down?” he rumbled in the dancer’s ear.
“You’ll need more than one night, big boy.”
Jorunn rolled her eyes. So typical of Cassandra. She was always aggressive, but overly so, in a way that was skanky and not the least bit attractive. But Jo had seen Dietrich in action at her shop. He came in alone, but usually left with one female, sometimes two, depending on his mood. He eyed Cassandra from head to toe, and even though he was wearing his shades, and his stare was nowhere near focused on her, Jo felt it like a rush of warm water on a cool day. Dietrich was built for sex. Raw, primal, break-your-back, sex. Lucky for him, Cassandra was more than up to the challenge.
“One night is all you’ll get. Then after that, it’s off you go. I’ll meet you out front after I’m done with the meet and greet,” he reiterated.
He stopped before they made it to her father’s door, whispered something into Cassandra’s ear that made her moan, and pushed her in the direction of the club with a firm swat to her ass.
Men. They always went for the outer package before taking a look at the inner contents.
“We gots guests, yes!” Beats sang in a singsong voice.
“Knock that shit off, Beats,” Khalid grumbled, shouldering past him into their father’s office.
Phineas Finnagan had saved Jo’s life. He’d found her and Khalid on the street, digging through trash for food. Back then, she’d had no clue what an immortal was. She’d been ignorant in all things. Knowledge was something she’d craved but could never touch because she was illiterate. Watching television had only given her so much information.
Jorunn waited as the others filed in. She walked over to where her father sat behind a large desk. A piece he’d carved from an actual dinosaur bone. His long brown hair was up in a messy bun on top of his head. His elbows were planted on the glass surface as he locked his fingers together, save for his pointer fingers, which rested against his lips, and his thumbs which rested against his chin, giving him a relaxed look. He was always one to look put-together. Not a single emotion on his face. He kept his beard neatly trimmed, and his intense, blue eyes missed nothing. They were sharp and assessing. To anyone on the streets, he looked to be in his early thirties, but Phineas Finnagan was a first generation Elemental Demon. One of the oldest Demons to walk the Earth. Dygon implied he was possibly the firstborn of the quads born to the Demoness, Lilith, herself.
Both of the twins looked over to where she stood. The one with the amber gaze—she’d been told his name was Royce—threw her a wink and a smile.
“Is there something wrong?” Jo questioned.
Royce’s mate, Belinda, turned full circle and made sure she had both brothers’ attention when she placed her hands in theirs. Ronin took her right, and Royce her left.
“Nah, we’re good. You’re different. I can barely read you,” was the male’s only response.
“Sometimes, it’s good to be different.” Her voice was louder this time. And it seemed everyone in the room was staring at her now. Dietrich included. Shit. Her voice. It was another thing that was strange. At times it could be layered. It was the weirdest thing, and happened at the most inopportune times. Her father warned it compelled people to her will. She had yet to truly test that theory. It came and went on its own. She’d never tried to purposely speak that way.
“Kapua, it’s good to see you again, child,” Phineas crooned in his smooth, lilting accent. Her father always called everyone by his or her given name. It was something he did out of respect.
“Phineas, it’s always good to see you.” Xee gave him a chin lift.
The smile on his face was real as his eyes crinkled at the corners. It was rare that he treated newcomers so friendly.
“I see everyone except for the wolf and his mate. How do I know my request will be honored?”
What request? She’d thought they were here because he had information.
Gabriel, the Harbinger Angel, spoke then.
“I’m Draven’s second-in-command. We were told you had information, not that you were soliciting a request.”
Phineas nodded his head. He didn’t speak for long moments as he looked each member of the Unit over. Jo wanted to know what was going through her father’s head. He told her and Khalid everything. Not once had he mentioned anything about a request.
“Well, I see no reason for us not to work together because of a simple request.” Phineas stood and rounded his desk. He leaned against the bone top and grabbed the edges as he leaned back. “I hear you search for the Sahidic. I have extensive knowledge of the relic. But I will warn you; Eremiel can be a catty bastard. Angel of Unveiling and all that.” He smirked. “Before I offer my knowledge, I have some requests. One, I will ask now. The other will come tomorrow, once I receive your answer.”
“I’m sure the request isn’t small if the information you have is real,” the Angel pointed out.
Her father smiled. This time it didn’t reach his eyes, and a cold gust of wind rushed through the room as Phineas pushed off his desk and walked over towards the mini-bar. He poured himself a drink, not offering the others any. The amber liquid was laced with Fire Water. Something, only Demons favored drinking because of the intense burn. It was the same Fire Water rumored to have been created by one of the Titans. He took a sip and sighed as his blue eyes zeroed in on Gabriel.
“What I ask is not easy. It’s quite difficult for me, as well, and this thing I ask will require tolerance from both sides.”
“Tolerance of what?” Gabriel looked to Royce.
“His requests are valid, Gabe. I read his thoughts…well, what thoughts he made available. I agree with all, but one.” Royce stepped forward and addressed her father.
“Why our blood? That request makes no sense. If you’re doing it for the sexual pleasure, it won’t work. Not for you, Elemental.”
Phineas smiled, his white teeth vivid against his tan skin.
“It’s not for me. It’s for research. I only require two vials. One from each of you.”
“Fuck no,” Ronin, the silver-eyed twin contested.
“Then, we don’t have a deal.”
“Ronin, let’s hear him out.” Gabriel raised a golden eyebrow to the male when he would have continued to talk. Ronin sneered, gi
ving him a harsh look, and Jo had to wonder if the Angel of Death could take the twins on.
“Not if our blood’s involved.”
“I only need a small amount. As I said, this is for research. I want to ensure its healing qualities will work on someone special to me.”
Jo gasped. He was talking about her. He had to be.
Ronin looked to his brother and back to Phineas.
“We’re listening. But this so-called information better be legit. Or you’ll be dealing with me.”
Her father smirked.
“I never give out false information. Even to those who are against me.”
“Against you?” Belinda asked.
“Yes, Matria. Those that would stand against my agenda.”
“What exactly is your agenda?” Gabriel asked.
“Equality for all,” her father recited, looking over the rim of his glass.
The others in the room looked to each other. No one spoke for long moments. Jo felt they didn’t truly understand, so she enlightened them.
“Equality for all. It’s The Immortal Movement. We’re all the same; some have just adapted and readjusted to embrace what life has given to us. They try and kill us off, we become harder to kill; they give us a blood deficiency, we ingest more blood; the elements try and destroy us, well, now there are some of us who control the weather.”
“Ah, T.I.M,” Dietrich grunted. He stood at the back of the room, his arms across his chest. He filled the space in the room, made it smaller. All the males did, really. But to Jo, Dietrich was something more. He wore distressed jeans and a black shirt that stretched across his torso and biceps. There were tattoos peeking out on the side of his neck and down one side of his arm. His hair lay flat against his skull in waves and tapered off into a bald fade. Full lips were edged by a neatly trimmed beard that lined his jaws and upper lip. He portrayed the image of a man that cared what he looked like, but Jo knew it was all smoke and mirrors. What you saw was not what you got with Dietrich. He hid the stone-cold predator underneath.
“I’ve heard enough shit for one night.” Dietrich looked to Gabe before straightening his arms. “Yo, I’m gonna head back out to the front.” He looked right at Jo then. Right at her. She was sure of it. No matter that his dark shades covered his eyes. She was positive he took one last look at her, before making the circuit around the room. If she weren’t standing so far away from him, she would have sworn he’d reached out to run his knuckles across her cheek. But that was her overactive imagination. Reaching for something that wasn’t there. She knew exactly where he was going, and who he was going with.
